


some kind of magic (it’s hard to believe)

by chasinghappiness



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: 2011-2012 era, F/M, Porn with a little bit of Plot, Smut, That Damn Finlandia Press Conference, comeplay if you squint, it's a magic sex ring, magical sex, very light D/s
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-08
Updated: 2020-01-08
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:02:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21912610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chasinghappiness/pseuds/chasinghappiness
Summary: Scott finds a ring that gives him some... magic powers. That’s it, that’s the story.
Relationships: Scott Moir/Tessa Virtue
Comments: 14
Kudos: 114





	some kind of magic (it’s hard to believe)

**Author's Note:**

> Hiiiiiiiii!
> 
> The title I have for this in my google docs is literally “A SHAME” but apparently I don’t have enough to keep this a secret so here it is! It is definitely different from anything I've written before, but I would love if you all would still give it a try! 
> 
> I started this a while ago with the intention that I would be posting it for Halloween but life got in the way so I didn’t finish it by then. I’ve always been quite attached to it, though, so I decided to go back and finish it and here we are! Plus I’m procrastinating writing my other story to write this one instead. (Don’t worry, an update will be coming soon-ish for that one!)
> 
> This is a nice mix of plot and smut with a heavy emphasis on smut throughout though.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Title from Oh, What A World by Kacey Musgraves

He could go to anyone else, he probably  _ should  _ go to anyone else, but she’s there and they don’t have many secrets between each other, not these days, anyways, so it doesn’t hurt to go to her with this…  _ problem,  _ right?

Wrong. 

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Tessa stares at him, blank expression on her face, her eyebrows creasing with exhaustion that’s present only in those who have been dealing with Scott for ten plus years. 

He sighs and tries again. “When we were in Taipei I bought this ring and now I think it’s given me magic sex powers.”

Suddenly, a jacket is being thrown at his head. “Marina said no drugs.”

“I’m not on drugs!”

“Scott.” Now she’s glaring, he hates when she glares. It feels like he’s being scrutinized by his mother except Tessa is nothing like a mother figure to him. Her and anything related to familial comparison should never be in the same sentence. It’s just… weird. “You’ve just told me that a  _ ring  _ has given you  _ magic sex powers  _ and you expect me to believe that you’re completely sober right now?”

He holds his right hand over his heart. “Scout’s honour. Want my piss in a cup?”

She scrunches up her nose. “Not particularly.”

“Then you’ll just have to take my word, Virtch.” He holds out the hand that was just over his heart and wiggles his fingers, the ring on his middle finger catching the light filtering in through the car windows. Thank god neither of them are driving for this admission. “This is the offender.”

She grabs his wrist and pulls it closer to her, holding up his hand and squinting her eyes, examining the ring further. “Interesting.” Her voice is merely a whisper as she runs her thumb over the cool metal. “It looks like a rainbow.”

“Sex doesn’t discriminate.” He winks and she hits him again. “I’m serious, Tess. You gotta believe me.”

“Okay. Even if I did believe you, what exactly do you  _ mean  _ by,” she lifts her hands in the air, holding up two peace signs,  _ “magic sex powers?”  _ She follows the words with air quotes. 

Scott shrugs and takes his hand back, placing it in his lap and beginning to fiddle with the ring. “First of all, my come tastes like candy.”

“Jesus Christ!” Tessa screeches. “Do I even wanna know how you know that?”

He grins. “You’ll just have to take my word for it. Or settle down for a very long, very descriptive story.”

She scrunches her nose up, again (that seems to be a theme during this conversation, just pure and utter disgust, which, really, he doesn’t blame her), and shakes her head. “No thanks. I’ll take your word. Is that all? Just… come that tastes like Starbursts?”

“More like SweeTARTS.”

“I’m gonna punch you.”

Scott reaches out and tickles her ribs, earning himself a giggle that only Tessa could produce. “Don’t you want to hear more about my newfound wizardry in the bedroom?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” she says with a sigh. She shakes her head like she can’t believe herself. It’s okay, he can’t believe any of this, either.

“I’ve got crazy amounts of stamina, like, it’s unbelievable.”

“Congrats,” she says with an eye roll. “You can last more than five minutes in a cunt.”

He gasps. “Tessa! Naughty language!”

“We’re talking about sex!”

“Anyways,” he brushes her off with a wave of his hand, “I’m not talking about a few extra minutes, I’m saying that I can last an  _ hour,  _ maybe more. And even after I, you know, come, I can go back at it again like seconds after.”

“Jesus, how long does your sex last that you’re going for  _ hours?!”  _ Tessa makes a face that tells him the idea sounds like the most unappealing thing she’s ever heard. He almost tells her  _ don’t knock it till you try it  _ but that seems like a crossing of many lines they’ve had drawn between them since they were young enough to know how babies are made.

He just ignores the question completely. “I also seem to know what my partner wants before being told.”

“You’ve always had good intuition,” she grumbles, “makes me pissed off, you know that.”

“But this is crazy good, T,” he defends. “Like… knowing kinks and sensitive spots and—”

“Scott Moir.” She glares at him. “Please tell me you haven’t been introducing kinks with your partners before conversing with them.”

He scoffs. “Okay,  _ mom.”  _ Again with the familial comparisons. He’s really gotta stop. “Maybe not  _ kinks  _ per se, but milder things. I don’t know. No one’s ever complained.” She glares at him some more and he relents with a sigh. “Okay, I won’t do that anymore. I’ll ask if they want what I  _ know  _ they want because of my magical sex ring.” He holds up his hand in front of her face and wiggles his fingers, to which Tessa shoves it away.

“Thank you, that makes me feel better.” She rolls her eyes but she’s still got a smile on her face so he’ll take it as a success.

“The weirdest part, and this is what got me fucked up, is—”

“Wait, wait,” she stops him with a hand clamped over his knee, “none of the other shit you’ve just listed had you feeling fucked up?”

He shrugs. “The other stuff could be explained by science. What couldn’t be is the fact that my partners, the sexual ones anyways,” Tessa rolls her eyes, “can hear my thoughts for like a whole day after we have sex, and I can hear theirs.”

The first time it happened, Scott just assumed he was dreaming, or that the girl he slept with had stayed the night and was talking very loudly about how hungry she was. But when he opened his eyes, he found his bed empty, but the voice was still very prominent in his mind. He remembers speaking to her, not out loud but in his head. The voice had stilled before he heard a very loud WHAT THE FUCK?! There was a lot of calming down after that, some weird fumbling explanations, and maybe a discussion of an NDA.

After that, Scott learned to keep his thoughts quiet after a night (or afternoon, or morning... he is twenty-four, give him a break) of sex, even though most of the thoughts from his partner made him want to rip his hair out. Usually he just tries to sleep through it all.

Tessa sits across from him with wide eyes, her shoulders completely frozen to the back of her chair. She’s not even looking at him, but rather out of the front window. At least her posture looks excellent right now, that  _ has  _ been something Marina’s been griping at her about.

“That  _ is _ fucked up.”

He bursts out laughing at her serious tone and she cracks a smile. 

“I told you, T.”

“You’re crazy,” she says, shaking her head. She finally looks at him and for some reason he feels a sense of relief. He just  _ knew  _ talking to her would make things feel better, less ominous, like this isn’t the end of the world. “And maybe I’m crazy for believing you.”

He immediately envelopes her in a hug, one he hopes she can feel him pour his gratitude into. This, her understanding him, sticking by his side no matter what, is why he loves her. “Thank you,” he mumbles in her hair, planting a kiss to her head before pulling back. “The only problem is that I can’t seem to get it off.”

“Why would you want to take it off?” she asks. “You can get some serious lays, now. Maybe Reese Witherspoon will even want to fuck you.” Now it’s his turn to shove at her, gently, of course, he’s not a monster. “What?!”

“I want it off because this whole mind reading thing is really fucking with me,” he says. “Plus, it’s not really my style.”

“And you’re sick of your come tasting like sweets?” Her grin is like the devil. He flips her off with the same finger hosting the ring that is the topic of conversation (and the reason why he’s blushing like a mad man). “Have you tried coconut oil? Or butter? Or maybe lube, if you wanted to stay on theme.”

“I’ve done all of those, and even the dental floss trick.” 

“Huh.”

He sighs and tugs at the ring that won’t come off his finger no matter what he tries. “I guess I could be celibate.”

“Scott Moir? Being celibate? I’ll believe that when Marina and Igor make up and fall in love as nature intended.” Tessa’s always been on that train; the one where Marina and Igor are secretly infatuated with each other and all they have to do is fuck out their anger to find that underneath it all is bottled up feelings of love and adoration. Scott’s not sure that’s correct, but he’s learned over the years to just indulge Tessa’s crazy ideas.

“I can do it. Just to prove you wrong, T.” That’s also what he’s learned over the years; one of his biggest motivators is proving Tessa wrong, in both positive and negative ways. 

“I’m on the edge of my seat in anticipation.” Something in her voice tells him that she’s definitely not.

He winks at her. “Hey, speaking of edging…”

“Shut up. Please. Shut the fuck up.”

**…**

They’ve just touched down in Vantaa, in fact, they’ve been in Finland for less than an hour, when Tessa grabs Scott by the elbow and pulls him into a secluded hallway near their baggage claim carousel. She’s tugging her skate bag behind her because both of them refuse to check their skates, ever. When they get in the dark corridor Tessa leans her back against the wall and Scott comes to stand in front of her. He thinks something is wrong, is almost sure of it with the way she is biting her lip and won’t look him in the eyes, until she starts to speak.

“I’ve been thinking about your… ring.” She flicks her eyes to his hand that’s holding the handle of his own carry on.

He smirks and holds up said hand. “What, this one?”

She shoves at his shoulder. “Shut up. Yes, that one.”

“Did you finally wanna taste my SweeTART—”

“Kind of.”

Fuck. Oh, fuck. His whole body zings with electricity and now that he really looks at her it isn’t just the hall playing tricks on him; Tessa’s eyes are dark, a deep forest green that he never sees from her. Not pointed in his direction, anyways. This has to be a dream, or maybe a side effect of the ring. Maybe another “power” is that he thinks everyone is staring at him with lusty eyes.

“Tess…” Scott trails off and rubs the back of his neck, mostly to get her to stop flicking her eyes between his face and the ring. “What do you mean  _ kind of?” _

“You said that you could hear your partner’s thoughts after you fuck, yeah?” She sounds way too casual for this kind of conversation. All he can do is nod. “What if we could hear each other’s thoughts? I mean, it would help during competition, we would be more in unison than we’ve ever been, and—”

He cuts her off. “Wouldn’t that be considered cheating?”

“I don’t… think so?” Her hesitance doesn’t help the small bit of morality left in him, not one bit. “It’s not like we’re playing Black Jack and telling each other our hands. Come on, Scott. It’ll just help our skating, not guarantee us a win.”

He purses his lips and ponders her offer. There is a part of them that thinks she is right; this  _ technically  _ wouldn’t be cheating, not really, and it would improve their skating with further communication skills that none of the other teams would be able to have. On the other hand though, he knows the means to the end; in order to read each other’s thoughts, they have to fuck, which is something they have been purposefully avoiding for the entirety of their partnership. Would it be worth it? He has no idea what it would mean for the two of them, how it would impact their relationship both on and off the ice. He’s not sure he wants to find out. 

That’s the main reason why he says no. 

“I’m sorry, T. It just wouldn’t feel right,” he justifies. 

She pouts but underneath it is a layer of sadness and insecurity; Scott recognizes it well from their teenage years. “Okay,” she practically whispers.

“It’s not that I don’t  _ want  _ to,” he reassures her, reaching out and grabbing her hand. He wants to make sure that she knows this. In fact, it’s quite the opposite. He wants to so bad that it scares him and thus he can’t; they can’t. “I just don’t think we should.”

“Fair enough,” she says, nodding her head, her face lightening up a smidge with the reassurance that it isn’t a  _ her  _ problem. 

They walk off to baggage claim together, Scott with his arm slung around Tessa’s neck and making a joke about how much red there seems to be in this airport. There’s an outside ease to them but inside he still feels off, like something between them isn’t quite right. He hates it.

**…**

Scott still has that feeling when they finish their free dance in Finland. They place first and stand on top of the podium with big smiles and their arms wrapped around each other, looking like there’s not a care in the world, but the tension between them is palpable. Pushed aside for two and a half, then four minutes as they portrayed character’s from one of Tessa’s favourite movies, he feels it come back between them as they walk off the ice and to the change rooms where they’ll swap costumes for street clothes and head for the press conference.

Before they can walk into the room where media sit and wait for them, Scott grabs Tessa by the elbow and pulls her into the first door he sees. Of course it ends up being a storage closet because the universe would make sure something like that would happen to them.

“Your legs are bothering you,” he says as a statement rather than a question. Fourteen years has given him the hauntingly wonderful ability to read her with just a glance.

She just shrugs and shakes out her legs, the right then the left. “They’ve felt better.”

“I can help you with that.”

“Okay.” She sticks her leg out. “You gonna give it a massage?”

He bites the inside of his cheek. “Not quite.” One of her brows arches perfectly and he narrowly avoids her gaze. It’s dark in here but he still sweats and blushes under her stare. “I’ve discovered another of my, uh, magic sex powers.”

“I thought you didn’t want to use those?” She crosses her arms and leans carefully against the shelving unit. He holds his breath but luckily nothing falls or wobbles. “Cheating, and all.”

“This technically isn’t cheating because it’s after we competed,” he points out.

“Okay,” she says. “What is it?”

“My come has healing powers.”

She blinks at him once. “I thought it tasted like SweeTARTS?”

“That too.” He wags a finger at her. “But I’ve discovered that if digested it also does wonder for any pains or kinks.”

She brings up a hand and pinches the bridge of her nose. “Again, do I wanna know how you know this?”

“Nope,” he says flatly. “But I think it could help you.”

“So am I just gonna get on my knees and suck your dick right here?”

He chokes on air. “No, Jesus Christ, Tess.”

“Don’t  _ Jesus Christ _ me!” she hisses, pointing a finger in his face.  _ “You’re  _ the one who suggested I…  _ digest  _ your come.” Her sigh indicates how exhausted she is. “How the fuck else is that gonna happen?”

He ponders the question for a moment. That part he didn’t really think of. To be honest, he really didn’t think much before opening this conversation. All he knew was the two of them were still holding tension, which he absolutely hates, and Tessa’s been wincing all week, which he hates even more, so he needed to fix both of these problems and fast. Propositioning that Tessa somehow swallows his come to make herself feel better was really just a blurt of the mouth.

Then he gets an idea. 

“Give me your water bottle,” he says, making grabby hands at the object that’s currently in her own grip. 

She looks at him skeptically and gives it to him; then her eyes widen. “Are you going to jack off into my water?!”

“No, no!” Well, not quite. “You don’t need much to help with healing, just a drop.”

Tessa sighs and starts to bang the back of her head against the shelf. Scott quickly puts his hand out to stop the impact. She stops and looks up at the ceiling. “My partner is about to put his come in my drink so that I feel better.”

“Would it help if I also drank it?” he propositions. 

She takes her eyes off a gross water stain ring on the ceiling and looks at him instead. “Maybe? Fuck, I can’t believe I’m agreeing to this. I blame the fire burning in my calves.”

Scott grins and grabs her shoulders, pushing her out the door while saying, “get out so I can do my business.”

**…**

“Does this make us exhibitionists?” she whispers in his ear as he sits down beside her at the press table and places the water bottle between them.

He quickly sticks his tongue out at her and bumps his shoulder against hers. “No, it doesn’t. We’re just… healing. It’s like drinking Gatorade or something.” As if come can be comparable to electrolytes.

Tessa snorts. “Speaking of… why is the water  _ that  _ colour?”

That, he doesn’t know. The second he had scraped his finger over the lid and the drip of come fell into the bottle, the liquid inside turned this obnoxiously bright shade of yellow. He had brought it up to the fading lightbulb to inspect it but was left empty handed as to why the water changed colour.

“Lemon is the best SweeTART flavour,” he jokes.

She clamps a hand over her mouth and has to swallow back her laughter. Scott really hopes he hasn’t started another laughing fit session that she won’t get over. He’ll never hear the end of it if he did.

Luckily, Tessa gets herself under control and is able to tamper down her giggles. The press conference starts shortly after with reporters raising their hands and the host choosing individuals to pose their questions, either about the competition, the skating season, or just their partnerships in general. Madi and Evan sit on one side of them and the Shibutanis are on the other; a full Canton sweep.

Scott’s so engrossed in the way Maia is elaborating on a comment with her hands flying everywhere that he almost misses Tessa picking up the bottle between them and uncapping it. He turns his head to look at her and she smirks, tips the bottle in his direction, then takes a long gulp. Something stirs inside of him, an electricity like he felt earlier in the week when Tessa originally propositioned that they use the magic of his ring, and he wonders if this feeling has to do with said ring. It’s like nothing he’s ever felt before, like the more the water mixture flows down her throat, the more they become one. He can almost feel their neurons fusing together, that’s how intense it is.

Once she puts the bottle back on the table, a smirk still on her face, Scott picks it up right after her and takes a gulp himself. He can tell that she’s trying to hold back a laugh from the way she bites her bottom lip. It shouldn’t turn him on, especially in the environment where they currently find themselves, but it does. He has to shuffle in the chair once he puts the bottle down. 

They stare at each other as Tessa takes a sip, passes it to Scott, then he does the same. It’s like they’re having a war with their eyes; who will take this further. When her lashes flutter he has to hold back a moan. There’s something about watching her basically drink his come. He never in a million years thought he would be saying that, but he also never thought that he’d find himself with a magic ring stuck on his finger, so. Anything is possible, he’s learned.

“This question is for Tessa and Scott,” one of the reporters says, breaking their gaze. Scott practically vibrates in his seat.

They should talk about this, they really should.

But of course, they don’t.

Other than when they pass each other in the hotel later that night and Tessa whispers to him how much better her legs feel.

**…**

Contrary to popular belief, Tessa and Scott do not hang out a lot outside of the rink. Sure, they have a relationship that is beyond explanation, and she is one of the most important people in his life, but that doesn’t change how drastically different they are. She likes to chill at home and watch old movies, he likes to stay out late with friends and obliterate his brain cells with alcoholic beverages. It’s just who they are.

So to say it’s strange that she is calling him at eight o’clock at night on a Wednesday would be the truth.

“Tess?” he says when he answers his phone.

She sniffles on the other end and he freezes where he’s walking around Meijer. “Hey, Scott. Are you, uh, are you busy?”

“I’m just staring at the chip aisle, debating if I should sacrifice an hour of my hearing with Marina yelling at me in order to indulge in some Funyuns.” There’s a small laugh on the other end, but it’s not a true Tessa laugh, and he can hear how wet it sounds, which worries him even more. “What’s wrong, T?”

“Could you come over?” Her voice cracking is what breaks him. 

He places the Funyun bag back on the shelf and leaves his cart in the middle of the aisle, eggs, milk, bread, and all. “I’m on my way right now.”

“Finish your shopping,” she offers weakly.

“No way,” he says firmly. “I’m coming now.”

She sniffles again and he thinks he can hear her voice squeak in the way it does when she’s trying to hold back a sob. “Thank you.”

Because it’s dark and late, there’s not much traffic that he faces, so he’s at her apartment in just a few minutes. One of the reasons why Kate and her chose the place is because of its central location.

She opens the door with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders, her eyes red rimmed and her lips dry, and he’s pretty sure the only thing she’s wearing is one of his old sweaters from KWSC, three sizes too big for her.

“Hi,” she croaks out.

He immediately envelopes her in a hug.

“Oh, T,” he whispers in her hair. They shuffle into the front hall so that he can shut the door behind him and they have some more privacy. She’s shaking in his arms and he finds the couch in her family room easily, her wobbly knees collapsing onto it and pulling him with her. He falls easily, trying to cushion them with his elbows digging into the furniture. “What happened?”

She pulls out of his embrace and brushes away the tears and hair falling in her face. “Mom and dad are getting a divorce,” she says through her crying.

Scott makes a soft noise, one that is a mix between a coo and a gasp, and tucks a strand of her hair behind her ear. “Tess, I’m so sorry.” He’s assuming that her mom isn’t here right now, hence why she called him for comfort. Unlike him, she doesn’t have many friends in Canton, disliking most of the girls at the rink, and for a good reason. 

“Jordan said that dad’s been cheating on her.”  _ Oh.  _ Oh, fuck. “I don’t… I don’t even know what to think of it all.” She waves her hands weakly in the air between them, the ends of the blanket clutched in her palms. 

“You don’t need to have all the right answers right now, or even have your thoughts together, okay?” He hesitantly places a hand on her cheek, wondering if that’s the right move. When she leans into his touch he smiles softly and strokes her skin with his thumb.

She nods her head and shuts her eyes. God, she must be exhausted, he knows how much this must be taking out of her. He can’t even start to process this himself, and Kate and Jim aren’t even his own parents. The things that must be flying through Tessa’s head are definitely all negative; he knows how down she can get about things and how she has the tendency to blame herself, even if it’s something out of her control.

“Come here, kiddo,” he says, gently turning her around and pulling her to him, her back resting against his chest. 

Settling into the couch, he wraps his arms around her and pulls the blanket tighter around her shoulders. It’s hard to know what she needs in this moment, there really is no manual for how to comfort your skating partner through their parent’s messy divorce, but this might be a good start. Their bodies warm up quickly, but not in an uncomfortable way; it’s comforting. For him, at least, he can’t speak for Tessa. But with the way she closes her eyes and her breathing slows, he can only imagine that it is for her, too.

“What can I do for you?” he finally asks, wanting to put the ball in Tessa’s court so that she can help him figure out what his place is in all of this. Through their career he has struggled with knowing his place in her life. Most times he’s worried about going too far or not being close enough. On the ice their boundaries are clear, their roles are outlined in choreography and characters, their next steps are planned meticulously. But here, without boards surrounding them in a perfect oval, he’s not sure what she wants or needs from him.

She snuggles further into him and places her head on his chest. When she breathes out, he can feel it against his neck. “This is nice,” she says, voice quiet. “Just… being here with you, being held.”

He squeezes her and nods his head in agreement. “Yeah, it is.”

Her hands find his and she starts to fiddle with the ring on his middle finger.  _ The  _ ring. “Maybe it has something to do with this,” she jokes.

“Are you saying my hugs are only good now that I have this?” he asks, faux shock and despair colouring his voice.

She giggles. “No, your hugs have always been nice. I’m just saying that… I don’t know. Maybe I’m just crazy but it feels different, like I’m more connected to you, in a way. It’s like I can feel your heartbeat in my own chest.”

His breath hitches because that’s exactly what he feels. “You’re just crazy,” he says, tickling her sides, covering for the shift he can feel inside of himself.

“Okay, stop!” She continues giggling and squirms around, trying to get out of his grasp, but he quite likes the way they’re cuddling so he stops his ministrations on her. Once he does, she sighs and sinks into him again. “Maybe I am crazy, but… please don’t leave.”

He shakes his head and places a kiss on her temple. “I won’t, Tess. I’ll stay here as long as you want me to.”

She nuzzles his cheek with her forehead. “I think you’ll regret saying that.”

There’s something that tells him he really,  _ really  _ doesn’t think he will.

**...**

He storms into her hotel room, not even knocking before opening the door, and huffing after every step he takes. She doesn’t even pay him any attention, just continues reading the book in her hand — they were talking about it at practice earlier on, which was more like Tessa talking about it and Scott semi-listening. It’s not even that interesting, why won’t she look at him? “Fuck Skate Canada and fuck the ISU and fuck whoever created this fucking sport of figure skating.”

She  _ still  _ doesn’t look up from her book. “I know you’ve got that sex ring and everything but why are we fucking all these people?”

“They rigged the final.” 

That’s what gets her to look up. “What do you mean they  _ rigged  _ the final?”

“Okay, maybe they didn’t rig it, but they fucked up the scoring, Tessa. Their fucking math geeks or whatever miscalculated our scores. We should have been first in the free.” He’s pissed. Beyond pissed, actually. He feels like he could punch a wall and then the faces of all the ISU officials. Okay, maybe that’s a bit violent, but he is  _ mad,  _ okay?

“Are you serious?” she seethes with narrowed eyes. “You’re kidding.”

“I wish I was.” He can practically feel the heat radiating off her. Maybe it’s because he’s also hot all over with anger. 

Tessa stands up and places her book on the table beside the chair, then starts pacing the room. He sits on the edge of her bed and watches as she basically tears a path in the carpet with all her stomping. It’s probably logical that he calm her, but he doesn’t really want to. He wants to feed off of her anger, and vice versa.

“I can’t believe this,” she says on one of her pivots at the window to make her way to the other end of the room. “I mean, I can believe this, the ISU has always been a underscoring piece of shit.” He has to hold in a snort. It’s not funny, it’s  _ not,  _ but it’s very rare that he sees Tessa this riled up. Rightfully so, though. “We need to do something.”

He gets an idea. “They’re not playing fair, and we shouldn’t either,” he says.

She stops her pacing and looks at him. “What do you mean?”

“I’m saying we should hear each other’s thoughts.”

“You’re saying we should fuck,” she clarifies. He shrugs and nods. “What, like, right now?”

“Are you doing anything else?” he asks.

“Plotting my takedown of figure skating.”

“That’s hot, keep that energy up.”

She comes over and sits beside him on the bed, tucking one leg under her so that she’s facing him. “Are you sure? You were hesitant before.”

“Yeah because I wanted to win fairly,” he says and turns his own body towards her. “They aren’t being fair, not one bit, so if we play dirty, then that’s no one’s business.”

“I don’t think we’re playing dirty,” she points out. “We’re just… fucking with side effects.”

He bursts out laughing then because isn’t that the perfect way to describe how his life has been since he put this damn ring on his finger. Fucking with side effects. Though, Scott thinks that ring or no ring, if the two of them were to ever fuck, and it appears that is now the plan, there would be side effects. He’s not sure exactly what they could be, not like he knows the ones that come with the ring, but there would definitely be a shift in the universe.

But they need to do this. It’s clear that the union is against them, even their own federation who are usually kissing their asses aren’t fighting for them. They’re on their own, it’s just the two of them.

“We should practice, though,” Scott points out when it appears that they really are going down this path. “I don’t want us to hear each other’s thoughts for the first time on the day of competition. It could hinder us more than help.”

Tessa nods like they’re negotiating a contract. “Agreed. So… now?”

“Do you have condoms?”

She shakes her head. “I’m on birth control.”

“Tess, my come tastes like candy and has magic healing powers, we probably shouldn’t fuck around and have it floating around inside of you. Who knows what could happen.”

“Okay, first of all, gross.” She scrunches her nose up. “I didn’t need that image.”

“You’re the one who drank it from a water bottle,” he reminds her with a smirk.

She shoves at his shoulder and he barely stops himself from falling backwards. “Please don’t remind me of that ever again.”

“I think there's a video of it posted on the internet, now. It will exist  _ forever,”  _ he says, emphasizing the last word with a dramatic flourish. 

“Anyways!” she practically shouts. “I don’t have any condoms, do you?”

“I’m sure I can find some in my suitcase.”

Tessa grabs his arms and pulls him up off the bed, quickly turning him around and leading him to the door. “Hurry up then, slut.”

“Don’t shame me, it’s the ring!” he throws over his shoulder before rushing back to his room and finding three condoms attached to each other in a sleeve. Don’t say he’s being presumptuous he’s just being prepared. 

Except nothing could prepare him for opening Tessa’s door (they have each other’s room keys, it’s for  _ emergencies,  _ and this is definitely one) and seeing her sitting on the bed in nothing but a baggy t-shirt and panties. 

“Christ, Tess,” he chokes out. 

She shrugs and looks down at herself, taking in the clothing (or lack thereof) that she has on. “I thought it’d be easier this way. Less of that awkward fumbling around stuff at the beginning.”

He has to bite the inside of his cheek and force himself to stare at the painting above her bed. “Right.”

“Scott.” Saying his name is probably the worst thing she could do right now but it brings him back to the present moment instead of his mind spiraling off and second guessing everything about this decision. “It’s okay to look at me.”

She’s right. All of the times when it hasn’t been okay, when he’s had to force himself to tear his eyes from her and get his thoughts under control because they don’t cross those kinds of lines; those times don’t matter now because he is allowed this. He’s allowed to let his eyes scan over her body, taking in the creamy skin of her legs and the spattering of bruises and scrapes that add colour to the expanse. He’s allowed to feel the blood rushing through his body, mostly heading south the more he thinks about what they’re building up to. He’s allowed to step closer, to reach a hand out to cup her cheek and feel her lashes flutter against the inside of his wrist like butterfly wings flapping in the wind. 

“You’re beautiful.” He doesn’t think he’s ever told her that. Sure, he sprinkles her with compliments every day, but to say  _ that,  _ to bring forth the character of her beauty and have it be known exactly what it thinks of her… well, it hasn’t been done until now. It feels right, though. 

She seems to think so too with the way she opens her eyes, parts her mouth, and inhales sharply. When he moves his fingers down her jaw to press into where her pulse point is he can feel her heart racing. His is identical. 

“Thank you,” she whispers. Her head turns and she places a kiss to his palm. 

_ Take your shirt off. _

There it is. The voice. It’s what he’s been hearing ever since he put the ring on. Whenever he engages sexually with someone, this exact voice pops in and out of his head, telling him what to do. It isn’t the voice of the person he is with, and it’s not his own voice, but it isn't scary. It’s gentle, almost pleading. This is what he means when he says that he knows what the other person wants. 

And apparently, right now, Tessa wants him to take his shirt off. So he does just that. 

Once he throws the shirt on the ground, Tessa shuffles on the bed so that she is kneeling in front of him, their heights aligning. 

_ Kiss her.  _

He leans in to kiss her mouth. 

_ No, no, not there! _

At the last second he moves his head so that his lips land on the underside of her jaw. As he works his mouth against her skin, sucking then laving then sucking again, he wonders why the voice told him not to kiss her. 

_ It’s too intimate.  _

What the fuck is that supposed to mean? Isn’t everything they are doing and about to do intimate?

_ Kissing is another level; you kiss people who love you, not who you’re conveniently fucking. _

He almost argues with the voice. This isn’t just a convenient fuck, not for him, at least. And he does love her. He loves her more than he’s ever loved another human being. It’s not some revelation that he suddenly has because they’re now enacting on sexual urges. He’s known about his love since he turned old enough to understand what the stirring in his stomach and the heat in his chest meant every time he saw her. And maybe he’s never put a name to it because love is a big word with only four letters and an infinite expanse of meaning and it’s  _ scary.  _

“Scott,” Tessa breathes his name out, her chest rising and falling with it, brushing against his own bare one. “Please, do something.”

_ Grab her ass.  _

His hands venture from where they previously rested on the dip in her back to land on her ass, his fingers and palms kneading into the skin and muscle. She moans and practically falls into him, Scott needing to steady them both. 

“Woah, T,” he chuckles, his voice gone all gravelly.

“How did you know that I’m an ass girl,” she teases, nipping at his shoulder. 

He lifts one of his hands and taps her ass with it, nothing hard, but a promise of what could be. She gasps. “It’s the magic.”

“Hmm.” She pulls back and places her hands on either side of his face. Her fingers scratch at his scalp and he hums deep in his throat. “I have a feeling that this magic sex might be the best I’ve ever had.”

“You’ve had magic sex before?” He grins. 

Tessa pinches his side, which impacts him more than normal since he doesn’t have a shirt on to soften the blow, and he screeches. She uses the distraction to pull him down on the bed and flip him around, her legs straddling his hips. “None that meet the definition, no.”

“So it’ll be your only,” he says, his hands resting high on her thighs.

She shrugs and begins to shuffle down his body. When she starts to plant kisses down his torso a shiver rips up his spine. “Still the best, though,” she says with a smirk. He’s not sure he’s ever been more turned on. Maybe in Finland, albeit that may have been a completely incomparable moment. 

As she makes her way lower, she stares up at him, smiling after every kiss she plants on his skin. When she reaches his belt she unbuckles it quickly, expertly, wasting no time popping the button on his jeans right after. He helps her shuffle them and his boxers down his legs until he’s laying bare on the bed. 

It’s cold in the room but his whole body fills with heat as she runs her tongue from the base to the tip of his cock. “Tess,” he says, voice caught in his throat. “You don’t have to do that.”

“But I’m really craving SweeTARTS,” she replies with a smirk and another lick up his cock. Jesus, she’s gonna kill him. 

She makes quick work of wrapping her lips around the head of him, her hand wrapping around the base and pumping where her mouth can’t quite reach. It feels incredible, and she looks even more so, her eyes fluttering whenever she drops down, her mouth stretched so pretty. 

_ Grab her hair,  _ the voice in his head says. He hesitates for a moment because that suggestion is more jarring than telling him where to kiss her or what clothes to take off. Gently, he takes a good majority of her hair in his hands and gives an experimental tug. She moans around his cock, a delicious sensation that he would quite like the repeat. So he tugs again, harder this time, and she actually pauses what she is doing. He sees her squeeze her thighs together and that makes him laugh breathlessly. The voice was right. 

The newfound stamina he has lets him last longer than usual, taking in all of the techniques that Tessa garners over the period of having his dick in her mouth, including taking him all the way to the back of her throat until she is pulling off and coughing. He swipes his thumb across her bottom lip, collecting saliva and precum, then pops it in her mouth for her to suckle. 

“It does taste like candy,” she garbles around his finger.

Scott laughs. “I told you.”

She pushes his thumb out of her mouth with her tongue and continues pumping his cock with her hand. “I’d say it’s definitely more like a Skittle flavour, though.”

“They do say everyone has different taste buds,” he says with a wink. 

Licking the tip of his dick again, she mumbles, “but not everyone has flavoured come,” and sucks him down again. 

He grunts, his hands leaving her hair and gripping the sheets roughly, knuckles going whiter the closer he gets to climax. It’s magic just watching her, ring or no ring. She seems to anticipate what he likes just as much as he can for her. Each time she pumps her hand, circles him with her tongue, places tiny kisses on his length, he grows dizzier. He’s never felt like he may pass out during sex but tonight is a collection of many firsts.

“You know,” Tessa says, pulling off his dick to glance up at him and speak clearly, “usually I’m a spitter, but I think that may change tonight.”

And out of all things, the combination of her hand pumping him and that image; Tessa with another man, sucking him off, leading him to orgasm and letting her mouth fill, only to scamper off and find the nearest Kleenex box;  _ that  _ is what makes him come. 

Stars and galaxies open before his eyes, his head starts to spin, like he’s joined NASA and been launched into space on a shuttle. Landing on another planet would probably feel less turbulent than this though. It could be the ring, or it could be Tessa, he’ll never know, but he can’t help but want to feel this way many more times throughout his short life. 

When he finds himself again, his brain returning to it’s usual state rather than the mush it had previously become, Tessa is kneeling between his legs, her hands gently kneading his thighs. He can’t help but reach out to her, brush his knuckles against the soft skin of her cheek, make sure that she is real, that  _ this  _ is real. 

“Can I overdose on come?”

Scott chokes on his saliva, coughing aggressively after. Grinning, she pats him on the back when he sits up, the tongue touched smile only spurring him on further. 

“Now  _ that  _ is something I have never in my life imagined anyone, let alone you, saying,” he states once he gets his breathing back under control. 

Tessa giggles and brushes her hair behind her shoulder, reminding him that she likes to have it pulled.  _ Focus, you idiot.  _ He really needs to get his thoughts under control before she can start to hear them. “It’s a serious question! My body is already feeling sated and it’s only been a few minutes.”

“I don’t think you can overdose on come.”

“Okay,” she says. “It was just a question!” There’s a pause between them, short but heavy, where he’s not too sure what to say. No protocols are in place here for what should happen next. Luckily, before he can fumble around words and most likely end up saying something stupid, she speaks up. “So… this mind reading thing… what exactly needs to happen for it to be activated.”

He makes a face. “Activated? It’s not a bomb.”

“Well, sorry, this is all quite new for me.”

“How sweet, I took your magic sex ring virginity,” he says with a coo. For a moment he worries the statement was too far, but she smacks him quickly after, her lip caught between her teeth to hold in a laugh. “I believe one of us has to offer a, uh, sexual act, and the other receives it, mutual or not. I’m not too sure if there needs to be an orgasm but I guess we don’t have to worry about that either way,” he smirks. 

“So technically we’re done here,” she says, her voice sounding regretful. 

He sits up and runs his hands up her bare legs, from her knees to the tops of her thighs, then presses his thumbs into the sensitive skin. “Technically,” he says, lips brushing against her collarbone with the word. “But it would be rude of me to not return the favour.”

“Oh?” He can tell her breath hitches and he places a kiss against the hollow of her throat. “Suzanne did teach us about mutual respect. I’m sure that also goes for mutual reciprocation.”

“We wouldn’t want to let Suze down, then,” he whispers against her skin. 

Tessa weaves her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, drags his head up, then keeps his mouth hovering over her own. It’s a tease because he knows she won’t kiss him, for whatever reason that jumps around in her overactive mind, but he wants to know the feel of her lips against his own. He tries to lean in, tries to close the gap, but she holds on tight to his hair, keeping him away. Giving up, he grabs her hips and flips them over, a gasp falling past her lips.

_ Tell her to stay still. _

“Stay still,” he commands, eyes locking on hers just in time to see how they widen. For a second he thinks he has taken it too far, but then she holds her hands at her sides, close to her hips, and nods her head. Something comes over him and he husks out a deep, “good girl,” which earns him a delicious moan from her.

Before working his way down her body, he grabs the hem of her shirt and pulls it over her head and throws it in some corner of the room, then plants kisses down her torso as he ventures to the end goal. When his fingers find her cunt, she’s radiating heat and moisture, the smell of her tainting the air. She looks beautiful like this, with her arms obediently staying at her side, her whole body still besides her chest that rises and falls in rapid succession. He traces a fingertip around her folds, watching a shudder go through her; it’s mesmerizing. 

“Scott,” she moans. “Please.”

_ Put your mouth on her. _

Scott obeys both Tessa and the voice in his head, leaning down and wrapping his lips around her clit, sucking harshly. Her back arches with the action, her hands landing on his shoulders and nails digging into his skin. It should hurt but instead it spurs him on. He slips one finger inside of her, hooking it and feeling the way she clenches around him. Scott can just imagine how good it would feel to be buried in her, to feel her walls tighten around his cock, and be the closest to her that a human can possibly get. The ring around his finger with the stupid stamina and short refractory period has him hard again very quickly. His hips rut against the bed in time with his fingers, which he slides a second one in beside the first, pumping in and out of her. Kissing along the inside of her thigh, he moans against her skin. The only thing he can focus on is the way his wrist has sped up without him even realizing it and the pleasure he feels from the mattress brushing up against him just right. 

“I’m close,” Tessa gasps out, her nails permanently sinking into his shoulder and leaving little crescent moons for him to remember this moment. He hopes he will never forget the way he feels while bringing Tessa to her breaking point. “Don’t stop.”

_ Stop.  _

What?

_ Pull away from her.  _

The voice is demanding, urgent, which is why he listens to it and completely pulls off of Tessa. When he does so, she lets out a loud screech, something so high pitched that dogs four blocks away could probably hear. He watches in shock and awe as her legs start shaking, subtly but surely, and her eyes roll to the back of her head. He’s never seen anything like it before. 

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my  _ god,”  _ she starts chanting, her words increasing in volume and her voice sounding more garbled the more she speaks. 

Reaching a hand out, Tessa looks for him, or that’s what he assumes she is doing, so he interlaces their fingers together. She continues to shake as Scott places his thumb over her clit, rubbing slow but rough circles over her. Her orgasm lasts about a minute longer, then her body settles and a sated look washes over her face.

“Tess,” he says her name softly, not wanting to jar her back to reality faster than she can handle.

Her eyes flutter for a moment before she opens them fully. A beautiful smile takes over and he can’t help but reciprocate and lean in to place a kiss on her cheek. “That was…” she clears her throat, voice gone rough, “amazing.”

“It’s the ring, I tell you.” He wiggles his fingers and the ring glints against the light emitting from the bedside lamp.

She shakes her head and opens her mouth, like she’s about to say something, but stops and bites her lip. He almost prods her but then she is sitting up and pulling him into a hug. Her lips brush against the skin of his shoulder, directly over where her nails previously carved their markings into him, and he thinks she says something like  _ thank you  _ but he can’t be sure. 

Not sure what to do next, Scott shuffles away from her embrace after he kisses the juncture where her neck meets her shoulder and holds her jaw in his hands. “I don’t want to push you, or make you do something you don’t want to, but it might be best if I stay the night. Most of my partners are… a little freaked out when they wake up and can hear my voice in their heads.”

“I feel like your voice is always in my head,” Tessa says with a giggle.

Scott rolls his eyes. “Ha ha, very funny.” Locking eyes with her, he kisses the very tip of her nose, which earns him a giggle. If he can’t properly kiss her, then he’ll put his mouth everywhere he is allowed to. “Is it okay? If I stay the night?”

She pulls the fluffy white duvet back from where the hem sits at the top of the bed and crawls underneath it, looking so snuggly and soft and warm. He hesitates before climbing in beside her. When she snuggles into his chest, he realizes that they’re still naked.

Tessa sighs contentedly and closes her eyes. “Can we go to Holiday Market when we get home?” He doesn’t correct her when she calls Canton home. “I think we both deserve one of those massive cupcakes.”

He plants a kiss on her forehead and nods his head. “I couldn’t agree more.”

**…**

“Should I get red velvet or double chocolate?” Tessa has both her hands on the glass display, her face so close that it starts fogging up.

Scott gets close to her, his chest just brushing against her back, and looks over her shoulder into the display. “Is that even a question?”

“You’re right,” she says, leaning back and by consequence into him. There’s not enough strength in the world that he could muster to pull away from her. Instead, he hooks his chin on her shoulder and continues to peer at the enormous cupcakes. “Double chocolate it is.”

He lived up to the promise he gave to her that once they got back to Canton, they would head to Holiday Market and each pick out a cupcake. They watch as the baker behind the counter collects their cupcakes — Scott chose the peanut butter and chocolate one — and places them into a two part plastic case. Tessa thanks him kindly once he hands them over to her and she has the biggest grin on her face as she brings the case up to her eye level and inspects the desserts. 

“My stomach just started growling, I swear.”

Scott laughs and gives her a tickle on her belly before pushing their shared cart further into the store. “I’m sure it did.”

It’s just after Christmas, so there are decorations lingering in the market, and when Scott inhales he swears it smells like evergreen trees. They pass by a blow up Santa and Tessa pokes at one of the golden buckles on his shoe, watching it deflate where her finger indented the decoration, and then blow up again, her eyes wide like a child. Scott wordlessly takes the cupcake case from her hands and places it in the top level of their shopping cart.

“What else are you looking for, T?” he asks.

They pass a tank filled with lobsters crawling around and Tessa pouts. “Poor guys,” she mumbles, not to anyone in particular. She does this every time they see lobsters like this. “I think I need some milk. Maybe eggs. And, uh, cereal?”

“So basically every food ingredient you know how to work with.”

She smacks his arm. “Shut up.”

It’s easy with Tessa. Almost too easy. He was worried after the Grand Prix Final, when they decided to hand themselves over to each other in more ways than one, that things would become awkward. It hasn’t, though. If anything, the two of them are more in sync than they’ve ever been before. Scott feels like they’ve fused together. Maybe it’s the ring or maybe it’s his thirteen year old heart that swore it would do anything in the world to not let Tessa down — even though he’s broken that promise one too many times. 

After they slept together, even though it wasn’t the full act in dictionary terms, they woke up in the morning being able to hear each other’s thoughts. He tried with all his might not to think something stupid, to keep the thoughts under control that may hurt their partnership with revelations that he’s sure Tessa isn’t ready to hear. It was easy, especially with Tessa wanting to rush to the nearest rink so they could practice while having their voices in each other’s head. They went out for breakfast after, speaking without talking, and smirking when they’d make a joke about one of the other patrons. It was more fun than stressful, which is how Scott started the experience. In fact, he’s looking forward to the next time they are able to be in the other’s mind.

The next time. That’s another thing; there’s going to be a next time, as many times as there are competitions they attend, which is more scary than hopeful, in his opinion. What happens if she wants to do it before shows, too? Or even practices?

“Scott?” Tessa touches his elbow and he whips his head towards her. “Are you okay?”

He nods enthusiastically, perhaps too much with the way his neck starts to hurt. “Yeah, I’m great. Sorry, I was just thinking about our upcoming practices.” Not a complete lie.

“Okay.” She grabs the lapels of his jacket and pulls him close to her, lips brushing against his ear. “Are you sure you’re not thinking about what benefits come with the next competition?” They’re in the middle of the goddamn baking aisle. 

“I—” And suddenly, like a branding iron, the ring starts to burn, hot as fire. “Ow, fuck!” he shouts, pulling away from her and grabbing his wrist in a desperate attempt to stop the burning. 

“Scott, what’s wrong?” she asks, concern written all over her face.

“The ring,” he hisses. “It’s burning.”

“Oh no.” She wraps a hand around his own, the one on his wrist, and holds tightly. “I don’t — how can I — we can’t get it off.” She touches the ring and he almost shouts at her to stop, but she doesn’t even wince. Can she not feel the fire? 

She tugs and tugs but the ring doesn’t budge. Tears spring to his eyes and the only thing he can think of is they’re about to be banned from Holiday Market which sucks because they’re the only place in a fifty kilometer radius that carries his favourite brand of milk. 

And then suddenly, she kisses his middle finger, right over the ring, and the burning stops. He stares at her with wide eyes like she’s some witch recently dropped off by the local coven. “It… it stopped.”

Her mouth opens and closes like a fish, and for one of the very few times in her life, it seems she is at a loss for words. “I don’t know why I did that,” she eventually whispers in as much shock as him. “I just… something came over me and I… are you okay?”

“Yeah, I think so,” he says. She still looks worried so he grabs her hands and it’s his turn to place a kiss over her own finger. His lips are already on her skin, far too late to change his mind, when he realizes that he’s chosen the ring finger of her left hand. She doesn’t say a word. “Really, Tess. Thank you. I’m sorry you had to see that, I have no idea what happened. It’s never done that before.”

“Maybe it got too overwhelmed at the thought of being able to hear my thoughts again,” she says with a wink. He opens his mouth to reply, even though he has no idea what to respond to that statement with, when she grabs his hand and drags him along with the cart down the aisle. “Come on, let’s go get that milk you like.”

**…**

They win Nationals after fucking in the back left shower of the male’s dressing room.

Scott holds Tessa close on the ice, taking in the roar of the crowd and the smile she has that could rival the fluorescent lights above them. He leans in close and gives her a kiss on the forehead. 

_ Your makeup is messed up,  _ he says in his head. 

She looks at him as they bow and he can tell she’s started to grind her teeth.  _ What do you mean? _

He raises an eyebrow.  _ I mean your eyebrows are longer than the 401. Did you not look in the mirror after we… you know.  _

That earns him a swift elbow to the ribs as they skate to the boards.  _ No, I didn’t, I was a little preoccupied with putting my clothes back on in time to hit the ice.  _

They bicker all through the kiss and cry, smiles permanently on their faces, kisses blown to the crowd, hugs given to Marina and Igor. No one would know that Scott’s just told her that he’s pretty sure there’s a spot of his come still on her cheek. 

“Congrats you two!” PJ greets them backstage with open arms, which both of them easily fall into. She squeezes them tightly and pulls away, leaving a hand on either of their cheeks. “You were more in unison today than I’ve ever seen you.”

_ Thanks PJ,  _ he thinks.  _ We just fucked right before this so that really gave us a one-up on all the competitors. _

Tessa snorts out loud then quickly clamps a hand over her mouth, shooting him a sideways glance.  _ Shut the fuck up before I get us both in trouble.  _

_ Yes, ma’am. _

_ That’s kind of hot. _

_ What, calling you ma’am? _

_ Yeah. We should try that for Worlds. Do you think you’d like if I called you baby boy? _

Now it’s his turn to make an outward sound, to which PJ gives him a funny look.

“Thank you, PJ,” he says.  _ I absolutely would hate that.  _ Tessa giggles. “We’ve been practicing our connection a lot.”

_ Yeah,  _ her voice rings in his head like a tinkling bell, innocent and sweet,  _ we connect with Scott’s dick in my cunt. _

He wraps an arm around her waist and not so subtly digs his nails into her hip. She squeaks. 

“That’s so good to hear,” PJ replies. “I can’t wait to see you at Worlds. I have a good feeling about this one.”

“You and us both, Peej,” Tessa says. 

_ Why am I starting to feel like we’re cheating again? And letting everyone else down in the process?  _ he thinks.

_ We’re not cheating,  _ she replies. Her hand finds his and she gives it a squeeze.  _ We’re simply using our strengths to our advantage. And remember; the ISU doesn’t give a fuck about us.  _

_ I know, I know. I still feel dirty, though.  _

_ Maybe it’s because your partner has your come on her face while she’s talking to your childhood mentor.  _

He chokes.  _ Jesus, okay, okay. I get it. We’re doing this for the greater good.  _

_ And for amazing sex.  _ She grins up at him and he almost sticks his tongue out before realizing that it would be strange to do that when everyone around them has no context. 

_ Yes, that too. _

**…**

Four Continents is a victory worth celebrating. It’s their first win over Meryl and Charlie since Worlds after the last Olympics, and Scott can’t help but wonder if the ring has anything to do with it. He doesn’t have much time to think about it though because Tessa is pulling him into a closet after the medal ceremony, giving him flashbacks to Finland, tugging her leggings down to her knees and pushing her thong to the side.

“Fuck me,” she says, breathless, her eyes as dark as their surroundings.

Scott hesitates, his hands curling and uncurling by his sides, wanting so badly to touch her but unsure of what this all means. They don’t  _ need  _ to fuck. The competition is over, there is no reason. But fuck it if he doesn’t want to; he always wants to, it’s actually unhealthy. Just like everything else, he blames it on the ring.

Tessa whines high in her throat and her knees actually start shaking. “Please, Scott, I need y— it. I need it.”

He doesn’t question her slip up because now is not the time. It may never be the time, but that’s okay. As long as he has her now, tugging his own pants down and getting closer to her, hitching her right knee up so he has better access to her cunt. He slips in easily, she’s already so wet there’s no way she hasn’t been thinking about this, about them, since before they even started their free. Their moans mingle together as they breathe into each other’s mouths; always brushing, never touching. 

They celebrate with mutual orgasms in a smelly storage closet and after Scott replays every Disney movie he’s ever seen in his head so he doesn’t think about how much he loves her.

**...**

The lead up to Worlds is filled with progressive practices where it seems they only get better and better as the days drag on. It’s filled with physio appointments and doctors check ins and a session with their marriage counsellor (he still snorts when they mention it). There’s also a  _ lot  _ of flirting between Tessa and Scott. There has always been flirting between them, little winks and lots of touching and words that were hollow since there would never be any follow up. Now it’s different. When they’re in the middle of smoothing out their short dance, Tessa’s hips swaying from side to side with the latin music filling the tall ceilings of the arena, she’ll bite her lip and look up at him with her eyelashes so fucking long. His lips are a magnet to any part of her not covered by clothing. Hand prints are burned into each other’s bodies and he swears the words they mutter to each other also start to show up etched onto his skin.

When they touch down in Nice, they head straight to the Skate Canada sanctioned hotel. It’s nicer than other ones they’ve stayed in before, but if Scott looks closely he can see the paint chipping above the check-in desk. They are handed two keys each and before they separate at the elevators they slip each other the second key to their own rooms. They’ve been doing this since Tessa was sixteen, it’s simply routine now.

What isn’t routine is the note that she slips into the keycard when he isn’t looking. Scott might not have even noticed it at all if it didn’t fall out when he opened his door and tipped the other card package upside down. He bends down and picks up the note, unfolding the lined paper and seeing Tessa’s loopy handwriting.

_ Come to my room after dinner. Don’t make it too obvious.  _

His heart rate increases and he swears his body temperature rises significantly at the connotations of the note. Tessa doesn’t want him to come over to talk strategy. He should be used to this song and dance by now but he’s not. It still makes his stomach stir to think of Tessa, naked and bare, chanting his name, their heartbeats syncing as they tip over the precipice of being alive and living.

The dinner is extremely long.

Tessa, of course, has decided to wear this tight black dress that really should be considered lingerie but no one questions it. Not that he wants someone to. In fact, he’d be the first to shoot someone a glare if they ever questioned anything about Tessa. She is always right, that’s just reality. 

Her hand also seems to linger on his knee. A lot. Her nails dig into his thigh when she squeezes his kneecap and he has to bite his bottom lip to keep in any noises that try to leap out of his mouth. At one point, Patrick gives him a funny look from across the table, but Scott just glares at him in a way that he hopes tells the other skater to mind his own business. 

“This has been so lovely,” Tessa says just as the wait staff start to clear their dinner plates and dessert is meant to be served next. “But I think I am going to head back to my room. Jetlag, and all.”

“But Tess, they haven’t even served dessert yet,” Kaetlyn points out with her eyes so wide and childlike. “That’s your favourite part.”

Tessa reaches a hand out and places it on Kaetlyn’s shoulder as she stands up from her chair, putting the napkin that had previously been on her lap onto the table. “It’s okay, Kaet. I think I’ll have my own dessert later on.” 

Is that… yep. She’s started to run her heel up his calf. 

“Okay, suit yourself,” Kaetlyn easily replies with a shrug. Poor, innocent Kaetlyn. Of all people who could have questioned Tessa, it had to be her.

As soon as dessert clears out, Scott bolts out of the room. So… maybe he didn’t follow Tessa’s instructions very well about being subtle, but fuck he’s been hard since the note landed in his hands, so sue him for being a tad rushed.

“You couldn’t have dropped the dessert comment when—  _ oh.”  _ Scott rounds the corner inside of Tessa’s room and what he sees is something he’ll never be able to forget. She is sat on the bed, legs intertwined like a pretzel. Red lace accentuates the tops of her breasts, the bra sheer and barely covering anything. He can’t see what she has on the bottom half of her, but it’s either nothing at all or a matching panty set and he kind of goes crazy at the thought of either option. Her lips are parted like a flower and coloured this deep crimson that resembles the purest ruby. She’s lined her eyes with coal and the green of them pulls him in, causing him to stumble over his feet until he’s stood beside the bed.

“Sorry, dear,” she says, voice soft, and she turns to face him. Her legs uncross and he sees the same lace that adorns the top half of her. “What were you saying?”

_ Grab her face.  _

He brings both hands up to cup her jaw, using his thumbs to tilt her head up where he towers over her. Her mouth parts even more and if he really wanted to he could probably fit two fingers inside, press down on her tongue, make her open even more for him. 

“I was going to ask if you’re ready for your dessert,” Scott tells her. 

She nods her head as much as she can with his hands wrapped around her. “Yes.”

“Yes, what?” He presses his thumb down on the pressure point in her neck and she sighs so prettily.

“Yes, please.”

Scott leans down like he’s going to kiss her, watches as her eyes go wide, but he turns to her cheek at the last second. “That’s a good girl.”

They fuck and it’s filthy and dirty and Scott’s pretty sure that the red lace is now torn to pieces and scattered on the floor of Tessa’s hotel room but he doesn’t care. He pulls her in his arms and even though he pounds into her with a relentless force, he thinks of her as precious. Breakable glass wouldn’t be handled with as much care as he takes with her. He watches his fingertips leave imprints on her porcelain skin and wonders if she’ll look at her hips thirty years from now and remember the way he holds her. 

**…**

The whole day of the short dance, Tessa’s thoughts are fairly singular. She keeps repeating over and over again the same phrase.

_ We have our rice. We have our rice. We have our rice.  _

She’s nervous, of course she is, they’re at the biggest competition of the season. They both know how important it is that they take the world title back from Meryl and Charlie. Olympic season will be here sooner than they know it and they need to set a precedent that they aren’t going to sit back and let the union screw them over again. They established that the first night they fucked. 

_ We have our rice. We have our rice. We have our rice.  _

Scott leaves Tessa when she heads to her physio appointment and goes straight to the grocery store. There aren’t too many options, but he finds the biggest bag of rice that he can, along with a metal tub that should fit it all. He heaves it over his shoulder and back to the hotel where he fills the bucket up right outside of Tessa’s door. This would be the worst moment for another skater to walk by, but luckily the halls are eerily quiet. After pouring all of the rice into the tub, Scott sits down and pulls out a blank piece of paper, folding it up until it makes a little card. 

_ Look at all the rice we have, kiddo.  _

He folds the card in half and writes a big  _ T  _ on the front with two little x’s beside it, then places it on top of the rice. With one look left down the hallway and then right, he scurries away to his room, leaving the bucket and note behind. 

An hour later there is a pounding on his door, incessant, so loud he worries that something is wrong. Tessa is standing in the hallway with flushed cheeks and a piece of paper clutched in her hand. They stopped being able to read each other’s thoughts a few hours ago, so he has no idea what she’s thinking when she pushes on his chest so that he walks backwards into the room, slamming the door behind her. 

They stand practically toe to toe for a full five minutes, Tessa’s chest heaving with staggered breaths, Scott counting from one to sixty then starting over again, praying he didn’t just take it too far. 

“Where did you find all that rice?” she whispers.

He shrugs and licks his lips. “I had to go to a few grocery stores but the one a few blocks away had a pretty stocked international section.”

She stares at him with an expression Scott has never seen from her before, which is a shock because they know each other probably better than they know themselves. He’s about to apologize for lack of any other words when Tessa grabs his face and kisses him. Like, really kisses him. On the mouth. He’s too shocked to react quick enough, so she resorts to biting his bottom lip with her teeth, which brings him back to down from the clouds he found himself floating among.

Kissing Tessa is something he has wanted to do for a very long time. Ever since he was nine and his lips just missed her own as he nervously handed her a bouquet of flowers. And then when he was thirteen and his palm started to sweat when it held her own. Then at age sixteen when he understood the sensuality behind growing up. Age eighteen when Tessa’s body started turning into one of a woman. At twenty when he broke her heart and he wanted to do anything in his power to put the pieces back together. The strongest urge was at age twenty-two, just before they stepped onto the podium, when Tessa shyly looked up at him like they hadn’t known each other for fourteen years and asked if she could hold his hand. In that moment he loved her so much he almost started to cry. 

The lead up has been long, but the end result is worth the wait. Kissing Tessa is like biting into the first fresh strawberry of the season. It’s like when you’re riding in the backseat of a car and travelling one hundred kilometers down a back road when you get to a steep hill and your stomach flies into your throat. It’s like that pleasant buzz between tipsy and drunk where you regret nothing and anticipate everything. Kissing Tessa is like coming home after being away for a long, long time.

Scott grabs a handful of the sweater she’s wearing and reluctantly pulls away from her mouth so he can lift it over her head. She’s not wearing anything underneath and the sight of her is magnificent. Porcelain skin, rosebud coloured nipples, her chest blotchy from them kissing. He reaches his hands out, not to sensually touch her, but just to feel her. The muscles under her skin remind him of marble sculptures held at the Louvre. The ring allows his hands to be so sensitive that he feels each goosebump that pimples across her torso. 

Her breathing is steady but quick and he finds his own matches perfectly. She stays still as he glides his hands over her body, across her collarbones, over her shoulders, down her arms, landing with his palms in her own, clutching with all the strength in the world.

Their eyes lock and Scott’s unable to look anywhere else. It’s like there is this cosmic connection between them, their gaze creating an invisible thread made of unbreakable steel. He thinks he can feel everything she does. When he leans in and their noses touch, when he turns his head and his lips brush against her cheek, when his hand finds the string of her sweatpants and he tugs enough that they slide down her hips; he feels it all.

She breathes his name out like a whisper and a cry and a prayer, all at once. 

Unlike the night before, they take their time with each other. Every touch is calculated and slow, but passionate, and he wonders if she can feel the way his fingertips tell her skin how much he loves her. He wonders if the grooves of her hips and the thick of her thighs know the way his heart beats only for her.

Taking his time with her, Scott lays her out on the bed, pulling her pants off all the way until she is bare. He does the same thing to himself as she watches carefully, never taking her eyes off him. His fingers find her dripping and he spends the next few minutes exploring every fold. Instead of watching his hand work around her, he watches her face, how her eyelashes flutter and her mouth parts open. Now that he’s allowed to kiss her, he does, capturing her mouth with his own and actually feeling the moans and whines that fall past her lips and onto his own. 

_ Please, fuck me. I’m ready, just do it. _

The voice has never spoken in first person. Never.

He finds a condom quickly and rolls it on before pushing into her. His eyes roll to the back of his head and he can feel every inch of his body tingle. Pumping in and out of her, he grabs her hips and holds on tight, burying his face in her neck and whispering her name over and over again. Her hand grips the back of his neck, holding him close, and her own voice chants a similar symphony. 

Scott swears on his life he’s never felt closer to her. Scratch that: he’s never felt closer to another living soul. 

Like everything they do, they finish together, Scott slumping against her, both of them sweaty and sticky but he couldn’t even imagine leaving her right now. It’s like his body needs to be touching her own or he may die.

Usually it takes a few hours for their thoughts to be in each other’s heads, but this time it’s instantaneous. His mind is quiet, or at least he tries to keep it that way, but Tessa’s is anything but. 

As she lays next to him trying to catch her breath she chants in her head a new mantra. 

_ This is only for the skating. This is only for the skating. This is only for the skating.  _

He doesn’t think it, he swears he doesn’t, but in that moment his heart shatters and scatters on the floor like the tiny red lace from the night before.

**...**

They’re on tour; no stakes, no pressure, just the two of them having fun and skating. And it’s basically like summer camp, getting to hang out with all of his friends during the day and skating at night. He likes tour, but not as much as he likes the thrill of competing. The pressure can be a lot, he’s not an idiot, he knows the feeling of the knot tightening in his stomach much too well. But there’s something about  _ needing  _ to be his best versus just wanting to be his best. The high from competing isn’t easily achieved with much else. 

So, yeah, they’re touring, and there is no reason for them to fall into each other’s bed again. But then they have their first performance and it’s horrendous. Scott trips over his feet and Tessa stumbles through a twizzle and their hands are so sweaty he almost drops her in the middle of a lift. He’s never dropped her before.

Tessa shoots him a look after the bows meaning that she wants to talk to him and he has to agree. He sulks down the hotel hallway until he comes to her room; number 217. When the door opens she’s stood in front of him with a white robe wrapped tightly around her and she makes quick work of grabbing his wrist and pulling him inside.

“I know what you’re thinking,” she starts. 

He smirks. “How’s that possible? The last time I saw you naked was Worlds.” Instead of the laugh he’s expecting from her, she keeps a straight face, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. “Tess? Is everything okay?”

“I don’t think we should do this anymore.”

He blinks. “Do what?” Anger rises in himself which in turn colours his voice. “Skating or—”

“No, no, of course not,” she rushes to correct him, to calm him. Well, at least he isn’t about to lose her completely. She lets out a sigh and closes her eyes for a brief moment. When she opens them, though, she refuses to look at him. “Sleeping together.”

“Okay.” That’s all he can think to say.  _ Okay.  _ What else is he supposed to do? This was her idea in the first place, who is he to pressure her to keep going? It was clear from the last time they fucked exactly what it is she thinks of them sleeping together anyways. He hasn’t been able to get the sound of her saying  _ this is only for the skating  _ out of his head ever since. “That’s, uh… that’s fine.”

She winces and he wonders why she allows herself the ability to feel hurt in this situation when she is the one making the decision. He’s the one with the broken heart. “Are you sure?”

“Tess, I’m not going to push you to do something you don’t want to. Especially something like… like  _ this.” _

“You’ve never pushed me,” she makes sure to say, which is nice considering the fact that right now he seems to be regretting all of his decisions, starting with buying this stupid fucking ring. “I just think that we’re relying on it too much. We have to trust our skating.”

“Right,” he says. Now he’s the one avoiding her eye contact. “I get that.”

It’s silent between them and Scott can feel his skin start to crawl with anxiety. He needs to get out of this hotel room before he says something he shouldn’t. And fast.

Before he can do so, Tessa is reaching out and touching his elbow. “Did you want to, uh… one last time?”

Scott thinks about the proposal. It’s tempting, especially as Tessa stands in front of him, the smell of her so strong he wonders if she’s just taken a shower. The string around her robe taunts him. But then he remembers the last time they fucked. It could only be described as magic, and he knows he has the ring, and he knows that his mind is creative and loves to see things that aren’t really there, but he swears it was special. Not to sound like a twenty year old rom-com lead, but it was.  _ That  _ is how he wants his last time to be with Tessa.

“I think it would be best if we just call it quits now,” he says, trying so hard to not sound devastated.

Tessa nods her head and her bottom lip is between her teeth again. Before this conversation, Scott would have taken his thumb and pulled it out, and he doesn’t know if that fact is sad or scary. He settles on leaning in and giving her one last kiss on the cheek, saying goodbye, then leaving her room, closing the door behind him.

**…**

“I know what that is.” Max comes up to him after rehearsals, when Scott is a sweaty mess, his breath stuck in his chest like a dry ball of fur. Whoever said that being an athlete is glamourous can jump off a cliff. 

The other man is pointing at Scott’s hand. “Uh… is this you trying to practice English with me again?” 

“No,” Max says with an eye roll. He picks up Scott’s hand and points at his ring. “I know what  _ that  _ is.”

_ Oh.  _ “It’s a ring.” Scott can’t hide the way his voice cracks.

“Not just any ring,” Max says, his accent thick. “A magic ring.”

“How did you…”

“Don’t ask.” Max sounds about as exhausted with the thought of the ring as Scott is with having it on his hand. “You want to know how to get it off?”

“Please,” Scott begs.

Max crooks a finger at him, wanting Scott to lean in closer, like they’re gossiping school girls talking about their crush. “True love.”

Scott snorts. “This isn’t a Disney movie, Max.”

“Then how come mine fell off when Tati and I told each other of our love for one another?”

“You…” Scott’s eyes widen. “There is so much to take from what you just told me, but first of all, you and Tati love each other?!”

Max shushes him. “Yes, yes. But that isn’t important.”

“I beg to differ.”

“We aren’t as obvious as some people,” Max deadpans, his face unenthused.

Furrowing his brows at the other man, Scott crosses his arms across his chest and says, “What is that supposed to mean?”

Max tilts his head behind Scott. When he turns around, he sees Tessa sitting on one of the benches lining the outside of the rink, unlacing her skates. “Tell her.” There’s a depth to his voice that fills Scott’s stomach with dread. 

“I don’t think I can.”

“You don’t think you can,” Max starts, brow raised, already turning to walk away, “or you won’t?”

**…**

Ever since Max addressed him and the feelings he  _ thought  _ were buried deep down, Scott finds himself second guessing everything. 

There are a few things that he knows.

First is that he loves Tessa. He’s always loved Tessa, how could he not, he’s sure everyone who meets her ends up loving her. But he knows that he is  _ in  _ love with her. He knows that if a bus were barrelling down the road about to hit her, he would jump in front of it without a second thought. Happily, too. He knows that he never wants to live without her and he’s definitely sure that he never wants to live with someone else. His life in unimaginable without her.

Second is that he has no idea where Tessa’s mind is. Sure, he’s had access to it in bits and pieces for a few hours here and there, but she’s smart and she knows how to turn it on and off. If he could figure out how to filter his thoughts, he’s almost positive so could she. In the many years they’ve been skating together, Scott only knows what Tessa wants him to know. He may think he has her figured out, but she’s proven time and time again that she is always one step ahead of him. Maybe that’s another of the many reasons why he loves her.

Third is that when they are together, everything makes sense. There’s no other person in this world that he feels so right being with. Scott might not know Tessa, but she knows him, and that counts for everything. He’s not a religious man, not anymore, but it’s like God decided to play with puzzles when he made the two of them, fitting all of their faults and flaws perfectly together to make one coherent existence. When he’s not with her, it feels like a piece of him is missing. They’re two halves walking around and when they are together they become whole. And he is really hoping that Tessa feels the same way or else he just sounds like a bumbling idiot.

Fourth is that he really needs to find a way to get this fucking ring off his finger.

They’re back in their hometowns now, getting a bit of rest before they start choreography on next season’s skates. Scott’s just about to get in his truck to head over to the rink to help his mom fix a leaky pipe when Tessa texts him, asking if he can come over. Things have been off between them since that night on tour when she told him that they shouldn’t sleep together anymore. He’s been short with her, she’s been quiet. So he takes this opportunity to call his mom and let her know that he’ll be late. When she starts to bicker at him he mentions that her golden child Tessa needs something, which gets her to shut up pretty quickly.

He comes knocking on her door forty minutes after she sent the initial text. When he sees her in the hallways there’s something soft about her, something quaint, but also a nervous energy similar to before they compete. He wonders if she might throw up, soon.

“I think we need to talk,” she blurts out before he can even step through the door frame.

He nods his head. “Hello to you, too.”

“Sorry,” she mutters, stepping aside so he can come into her house. “Sorry.”

The house looks better than the past times he’s been here. It seems that the renovations are coming along nicely and he’s happy for her, truly. He remembers the first time she told him about the home and how excited she had been that it felt like the perfect place for her. The complete one eighty turn around seemed ambitious, but it’s looking nice. Garage gone, she has a beautiful family room in the back of her home, large windows filtering in this glowing light that makes him feel warm.

“It looks good,” he tells her as he toes off his shoes.

She leads him into the kitchen. “Thank you. Dylan said they’d be coming back once we head to Canton again to finish up some last minute painting and drywalling, but I am extremely happy with all the progress.”

“I’m happy for you, T,” he tells her and genuinely means it. Weird vibes between them aside, he still cares for her, and always wants her to feel joy. 

“Thank you,” she says shyly. “Do you want water or pop? I also have some beer hidden somewhere in the back of my fridge from the Victoria Day weekend.”

“Water is fine.” He wants to be stone cold sober for whatever conversation she’s about to spring onto him, considering how significant the last one was. 

Pulling up the nozzle on the sink, she pours him a glass and hands it over, to which he nods his head in thanks and takes a sip. She watches him closely and he watches her fiddle with the ring on her middle finger. He doesn’t remember her ever wearing it there.

“Do you want to see my bedroom?” she rushes out.

If this were any other timeline of their lives, he might wink and ask if she’s trying to pull something on him. Instead, he places his glass on the marble countertop and nods his head, following her lead as they climb the wooden staircase.

Her room is exactly what he was expecting, but at the same time everything he wasn’t. The furniture is sleek and clean and mostly white which is a dead giveaway she picked it all out. Her pillows have different embroideries on them; one is the eiffel tower, another says  _ dream  _ in italic letters, a third has a skate on it which is the only giveaway as to what her job is in the whole house. Well, that and the photo he caught of them from the Olympics in her bookcase downstairs. All of the colours blend together besides the curtains. They’re this bright orange colour and they paint the room in a feeling more than a shade. He can’t help himself when he walks over to them and runs his fingers along the material. They feel like silk but they’re thinner than that. 

He turns around when he hears two pats behind him and sees Tessa sitting on the bed, inviting him over. He follows because he would go anywhere she asked.

“When I was younger, and I used to sleepover at my grandparents’ house, I would always wake up early.”

“You?” Scott teases, the first time he’s allowed himself to since he walked through the door. “Waking up early?”

“I was six, times have changed,” she says. “Anyways. My grandma loved to sleep in, I guess I know who I get that from. My grandpa would tell me after breakfast to run back upstairs and crawl into bed with her. They had these sheer curtains with strands of gold threaded throughout. I remember the room being basked in this orange glow. It was so long ago, but I think I’ll always remember how I felt laying in that bed while my grandma woke up. She’d hug me and give me a kiss, then ask me where my dreams took me. I’ll never forget the colour of that room, and how it made me feel. It was warm and safe and special.” She pauses for a moment and grabs his hands, pulls them into her lap and strokes her thumbs over his knuckles. “Scott, that’s how I feel with you.”

He swallows audibly, not believing this is real. Pinching himself might wake him up, but it would also be awfully embarrassing if this really isn’t a dream. Then she runs a thumb over the ring. “Oh. It’s because of my ring.” That’s the only logical explanation.

“No,” she says sharply, her head shaking, hair falling into her face. He’d reach up and tuck it away if she wasn’t holding onto him so tight. “Ring or no ring it’s how I always feel with you; warm and safe and special and—and… loved.”

_ Oh.  _

“But you… you wanted to stop.”

“Yeah,” she sighs. “I wanted to stop because I couldn’t keep going when the purpose of it all was to better our skating.”

“That wasn’t the purpose for me,” he tells her. “It never really was.”

Her eyes take on a whole new colour that he’s never seen before and he really,  _ really  _ wants to kiss her right now. “It wasn’t for me, either. I had to keep telling myself that’s all that it was because if not I would have… I would have said something stupid like… like how much I love you. And I couldn’t keep doing that.” That explains her thoughts.

He takes a deep breath and then opens his heart to her (but then again, hasn’t it always been?). “Good. Because I love you.”

“Good,” she says with the brightest smile he’s ever seen. “Because I love you, too.”

**...**

When he wakes up in the morning, his arm has fallen asleep under the weight of Tessa, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. He rolls over and gently pulls himself away from her, his mouth protesting the lack of liquid intake he’s had over the past few hours. The bathroom floor is cold but the light is soft and welcoming, and so is the water he drinks from the tap. He’s just about to grab an extra toothbrush he found under the sink and run it under the tap when he hears a gasp in the other room and Tessa shouting his name.

She sounds concerned, with a tad of franticness colouring her tone, so he immediately drops the toothbrush and rushes back into her room. 

It’s his turn to gasp when he sees her.

Tessa is sat in the middle of the bed, blankets pooled around her waist, and her palm open. Directly in the centre, sat clear as day, is his ring.

**Author's Note:**

> 1) If you ever find yourself in Canton, Michigan I highly recommend the massive cupcakes from Holiday Market. 10/10 slap.
> 
> 2) I am now on twitter! Find me @chasing_happi, I would love to chat with you all!
> 
> 3) If you feel so inclined, please let me know what you think of this!


End file.
